


all kinds of gold

by snowcrystals



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 02:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3511628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowcrystals/pseuds/snowcrystals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Achilles drags Patroclus out of bed to view the sunrise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all kinds of gold

**Author's Note:**

> on [tumblr](http://fewsmallwords.tumblr.com/post/113153058128/all-kinds-of-gold)

5:47 a.m. June 5th.

Patroclus awakens, blinking the blurriness from his eyes as he registers that the sun is doing some blinking of its own.

In the room darkened by the drawn blinds, Patroclus understands that it’s not the sun at all. Someone is flicking the bedside lamp on and off.

“Achilles,” he mumbles, his voice garbled with a bubble of sleep. “That is as annoying as it is offensive,”

The flickering stops. A warm hand takes his.

“Patroclus!” Achilles whispers loudly. His voice is bright--he’s obviously been awake for an hour, maybe more. Enough time to get fidgety.

Patroclus squints at the clock, eyes still blurry.

“It’s not even six o’clock yet!” he whispers back with as much agitation as he could muster.

“I want to see the sunrise,” Achilles says, with all the excitement of a child on Christmas day.

They could have seen the sunrise any day, any time of the year, during a warmer month, but Patroclus knew it was no use to mention that. Achilles has a romantic view of the world, and it was easier to indulge him than to argue.

Not that Patroclus would argue. Not for very long, anyway.

He’s a bit of a romantic himself.

* * *

 

It took him a few minutes to stumble his way through dressing himself warmly enough so he wouldn’t freeze in the early June air. Achilles was already ready, of course. He even held two mugs of something warm in his hands.

The air outside was crisp, as expected. It was still dark, but the sky to the east was beginning to lighten. They sat on a ledge that faced the road into town.

Within a few minutes, the sun threw hues of rich gold and orange into the dull blue of the dawn sky. The trees lining the road obscured the tip of the sun that peeked over the horizon.

Another minute. More of the sun had risen, and its rays threaded through the branches of the trees like pale golden silk.

One minute more had passed before Patroclus thought to sneak a glance at Achilles’ face. He seemed in wonder at what he saw, at what display nature was putting on for the two of them. Achilles watched as if he had never seen something such as this in his life. Maybe he hadn’t.

But Achilles wasn’t the only one watching in wonder. Patroclus had found something more beautiful to gaze at.

The sun was illuminating Achilles before his eyes. He looked warm, despite the icy temperatures. The gold of his hair refracted the gold of the sun’s thread-like rays. And his eyes--his eyes, usually brown, were glowing with a deeper, richer gold than Patroclus could have imagined.

Achilles was gold. Gold plus gold. Gold multiplied by gold.

But what was the most golden of all--what Patroclus would never, ever tire of--was the smile that had spread across Achilles’ face. The brightest it had ever been.

* * *

 

Once the sun had fully risen, they returned to their room. Achilles babbled the whole way--possibly a little too loudly for the hour--about how he could never forget something so beautiful. About how they should do that every morning, over and over. How he could never tire of it.

But Patroclus didn’t see any need for that. He didn’t need to see the sun every morning, outside in the cold.

He could see it whenever he liked.

He could see it late at night, or in the afternoon, or during the evening, when they ate dinner.

He could see him as he awoke, as he tried to tame his morning hair.

He could see him as he fell asleep.

Patroclus didn’t need to see the sun, the real sun.

He had a sun of his own.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> My first TSOA fic! And hopefully not the last!
> 
> Just a little note: I'm basing this off my own country and my own college. So winter occurs in June. 
> 
> I prefer writing based off my own experience and it's easier to write more accurately if I have something to refer to!


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